


Gone

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Brainwashing, Confession, First Kiss, Hurt No Comfort, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean delivered the last blow with a brainwashed angel on a Thursday. He learned what he always needed to know</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone

“Love you.” Cas gasped out, fingers tight in Dean’s lapels, pulling him in, pulling their chests tightly together. 

He was leaning, pinned more like it, to the wall, all of the strength rushing out of him. He was shaking, ice racing through his veins, the heat of his Grace flooding Dean’s body.

“Dean, I-” he could hardly say it, the blood in his mouth thick and dripping, his lungs full of the stuff. He shuddered, coughing it out, staining the thick material covering Dean. He had to continue though, had to say this. “I love you.”

Dean’s grip loosened, his hold on the angel blade faltering. He stared into Cas’s eyes, brimming with tears, and he saw it. This was Cas, his Cas. Not some robotic, brainwashed thing, not something controlled by Naomi, not the unstoppable thing that had attacked him just moments before. 

This was Cas.

And he was saying something important, something that Dean couldn’t understand. 

Dean let go of the hot metal in his hand, his fingers coated in light. He pulled them away from the blinding blaze of Grace and wrapped his bloody digits around Cas’s cheeks. 

“You’re here.” he rested his forehead against the angel’s, “You’re you. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you go.”

“I’m sorry.” Cas sputtered, holding him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

Dean’s eyes were stinging and he clung to Cas, thinking that could make him stay, praying that it would. 

“Don’t leave me.” his voice cracked.

He could feel tears on his cheeks and he opened his eyes, found Cas staring at him, the wetness dripping from the dark blue and crashing onto Dean’s skin. 

“Don’t be scared.” Cas begged, “Don’t. I’m not, I’m not worth it. You are strong. You can survive.”

“Don’t talk like that, Cas.” Dean wiped the tears from the angel’s face, the blood from his lips. “You’re going to be alright. You’ll always be alright.”

Cas closed his eyes and for a moment, there was nothing he could do but shake, tremors sliding through his body. 

“I just.” he fought for the words, “I need you to know. I’ve always felt this way, since Hell, since raising you, since everything. You were all I could see. Every choice I could make, I made for you.”

“Cas.”

“I know you can’t. Can’t love me.” he was barely speaking over a whisper now, the words raspy and almost impossible to hear, “But I. I love you Dean. I don’t. I don’t want to die. But I. Please.”

Dean rushed forward, the words finally hitting, finally making contact. His lips crashed into the angel’s pushed his head back towards the wall. Smooth skin met chapped lips, a tongue slid past teeth and into a bloody and damaged mouth, licking into it. Dean hummed against Cas’s mouth, feeling weak fingers clench and dig into his jacket. 

Cas loved him. Cas loved him and he was going away. Going away forever. The ‘I need you’s and the ‘your family’s hadn’t worked, hadnt let Cas know that yes, Dean loved him too. Dean needed him in every way. 

He pulled away, looking into Cas’s weak and tired eyes. “It’s okay, Cas.” he promised, “I love you too, okay? I’m going to get you out of here. You’re going to be okay.”

Cas smiled, but the motion was pained and while it was genuine, even meeting his eyes, it was pitiful at best. “Thank you, Dean.” he croaked, “Thank you, for your love. For showing me. So much. For choice. For life.”

He lay his head down on Dean’s shoulder, hiding his face as the blinding light poured from his eyes and mouth, not wanting to hurt Dean with his Grace in his last moments. 

The last thing that he felt was Dean’s warmth as his wings burned into the wall. 

Dean clutched at the body before him, fingers in hair, hands sliding down his face, pulling Cas up and looking into the dead eyes. He was screaming and praying, begging someone, anyone, to bring his angel back. He kissed at the still eyelids, the tear soaked cheeks, the bloodied lips, hoping that something would bring Cas back to him.

After what felt like hours he pulled the angel blade out of Cas’s gut, damning himself for shoving it so deep, for killing this angel. He didnt know what to do without Cas, but for now he knew to take the limp body up in his arms, cradle it to his chest. 

He sobbed as he walked Cas to the Impala, as he lay him down in the backseat and wrapping the trench coat around him, like a blanket or a shield. He kissed Cas’s cooling lips once more before he drove off, back to the Batcave.

He carried Cas through the halls, wishing that there was some way Cas would wake up, that there was some way that he could see the Winchester’s new home, that he could be a part of it. 

That was how Sam learned of Cas’s death, seeing Dean, silently crying, carrying Cas through. He tried to say something before he realized that Cas was no more and he followed the pair. Dean took Cas to the bathroom, undressed his body, washed him, never saying a word, never taking his eyes from the cold eyes. 

He washed Cas’s clothes, sewed up the holes, removed the bloodstains. Sam was good enough to help him get the body dressed, but Dean wouldn’t let him help as he dug the grave.

It wasn’t deep enough, Dean knew that, but he couldnt make it more than three feet deep. He didnt want Cas to have to dig too far if he came back. He buried his angel under a 300 year old oak tree, scarred from a lightning strike. There was a gap in the branches that led to the sky. Dean thought he would like that.

It was a Thursday. 

Every Thursday after that Dean would sit under the old oak, drinking whiskey, which eventually turned to beer, which eventually became soda, and tell Cas stories. He would tell the angel everything that he and Sam had done that week, what he’d tried that he knew Cas would have loved. He promised the angel that he loved him. He didnt know where angels went when they died but he promised that, when it was his turn, he would find Cas again and, this time, he’d never let him go.


End file.
